


Swift as a shadow, short as any dream

by Secrethomeworkassignment



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexuality, Self-Indulgent, cw for psychological violence, cw for slavery, cw for social violence, schmaltz, swears, while the sexuality is pretty reserved boners etc are discussed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-08-14 11:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secrethomeworkassignment/pseuds/Secrethomeworkassignment
Summary: An alternate timeline misadventure wherein Leto escapes to Ferelden and meets Marian Hawke





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obvs I cribbed the title from the Bard. I hate titles. Totally incapable of coming up with a good title on my own, so must steal one.
> 
> While Marian and Leto are written as teenagers (the equivalent of modern high school seniors), there is some sexuality, so for everyone’s comfort including my own they are aged 18

Leto was awake before the bell rang in the men’s quarters. The sun piercing in through a crack in the roof had done it, and though he would have liked nothing more than to drift back to sleep, the cicadas were already humming so powerfully in the yard that he didn’t even bother to try.

He had been having the most beautiful dream. He was in a field, surrounded by golden wheat. There misty air was cool against his face. Someone’s hands were in his hair, caressing his neck. They were kissing him, they smelled of wood smoke and leather. Leto shielded his eyes against the harsh light of the morning. He was sweating. It was barely daybreak, but the heat was already oppressive. He looked down and groaned, pulling the sheet up over his waist. The slaves of Magister Vospicus Alba slept together in two long mud-thatch barracks divided by gender, and this arrangement afforded no privacy of any kind. Leto didn’t need any crass jokes from the other young men, who took any natural bodily occurrence as an excuse for great merriment, so he lay on his pallet taking deep breaths, in and out, ruminating intently on every unpleasant thing he could think of. Training exercises with Calvus under the brutal second-summer sun. The rodentius sneer Vospicus assumed when he tried to look authoritative. The oily texture of fried sardines… The night’s excitement receded and Leto rolled joylessly out of bed.

The household was beginning to stir by now, at least the slaves were. Vospicus usually slept till midday before taking his gilded hackney to town to lunch and eventually make his way to the Circle to work. Calvus was already up sharpening spears in the armory, so Leto figured he may as well report for duty. Calvus was the head of the household guard- a human man with a horseshoe of grey hair and a permanent sunburn. Well past fifty, an age at which more fortunate men were bouncing grandchildren on their knee, Calvus was tough as an ox-tail and would probably remain head guard until he died of old age. Leto didn’t mind Calvus. He was a grim old bastard, but Leto found him to be fair minded, and though he wasn’t exactly free with his praise, Leto could tell the man was fond of him. When it had become apparent that Leto was growing up tall and strong, Vospicus had taken him off duty in the vineyards and assigned him to train with Calvus and the other guards. Leto liked the company, and it pleased him learning to fight, but he missed spending days with his mother and little sister, and he missed listening to the women banter to take their minds off the work and the heat. He thought about bringing tea from the kitchen to the women’s quarters for his mother and Varania, but chose instead to let them sleep. It was harvest time and they had a long day ahead of them.

Calvus greeted his young charge by spitting in the dust of the yard. “Damn heat will be the death of me.” Leto flopped down on the bench next to Calvus with a sigh and grabbed a spear and a whetstone.

“Good morning to you too, Preceptor. Any chance you’ll be canceling our exercises? On account of the weather?” Calvus snorted.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, you’re escorting His Exorbitance into town. You get to spend all day within the cool confines of the Circle, absorbing knowledge while we sweat under the hot sun.” Leto made a face.

“Why me?”

“Because you, my lad, look like a hero from the tales, and Dex, Filius and myself have faces only a mother could love. You’re part of his outfit.” Leto kicked at the dust.

“Fine. At least I’ll be out of the sun.”

Calvus pointed the spear he was cleaning toward the main house. “Put on a clean shirt and wait in the foyer. He’s already awake, for once in his blighted life. Must be something important going on.”

After grabbing one of the better looking swords from the armory, Leto returned briefly to the slave quarters to change into a plain white homespun tunic and pants before going into the main house to wait in the spacious marble foyer. He sniffed discreetly as his armpit- the humidity had him already sweating through his tunic, but he had been to the bathhouse just yesterday and was in a relatively good state of hygiene. Vospicus emerged from the upper chambers and swept past him into the waiting carriage, and they were off through the wide leafy roads that led from the outer estates of Minrathous into the city center. It was about fifteen minutes’ ride into the heart of town, and the dirt roads slowly gave way to white marble as the Dreaming Spires emerged shimmering through the trees. Along the road, vendors sold fruit and every kind of fried or grilled snack from their stalls, and as they got further into town the street was flanked with shaded pavilions where magisters and merchants sat drinking tea and chilled sweet wine. Everything in the city center was built from white stone to offset the heat, and the effect was almost blinding.

Leto gazed out the window of the silk lined carriage both to admire the grandeur of Minrathous and to avoid looking at Vospicus, who was seated directly across from him. Leto was practiced at keeping his emotions off his face, but he was always afraid that if he looked directly at his master Vospicus would see how much Leto despised him. Vospicus Alba, though he was in his thirties, had the energy of a callow boy. He was thin, with paper white skin, bright orange hair, and features that reminded Leto of the rats that wandered freely through the undercity. Vospicus fancied himself a bit of a trendsetter, and was dressed in salmon colored silk robes that did nothing for his complexion but make him look vaguely feverish. His cologne was giving Leto a headache.

Certainly Leto had felt no special attachment to Domina and Dominus Vospicus Senior, who had passed away five years earlier in a boating accident (details given to servants were vague), but the general feeling among the slaves was that it was worse now that Vospicus Alba had free reign. He was an only son, his sister was married, and with no one left alive to pressure him about starting a family Vospicus was free to dedicate without reservation his entire being, as well as everything and everybody in his possession, to his true passion- the pursuit of excellence in debauchery. In spite of his somewhat lackluster dedication to his work, Vospicus was an accomplished mage, and did just well enough in his research at the Circle to be the man the most gifted magisters in Minrathous went to for a good time. Leto hated the parties. He hated that there would inevitably be vomitus to clean off the carpets, he hated that his mother and the other women had to stay up late into the night to serve only to wake up again at dawn to work the vineyard, and most of all he hated that Vospicus had started using his little sister, Varania, as his personal cup bearer. The new position had come complete with a special uniform- an airy silk gown that left Varania’s back and shoulders exposed. She was only fourteen, for Maker’s sake. The way Vospicus had started looking at her made Leto’s blood run cold. He watched the scintillating colors of the market flash by and tried not to dwell on it.

They arrived at the Minrathous Circle of Technology and the Magical Arts just as a number of other carriages pulled into the marble close at the entrance of the Circle keep. The keep itself was magnificent. Thought to be the oldest building in Minrathous, the white stone was kept immaculately clean, but the broad marble steps leading up to the massive bronze doors of the main entrance had gentle dips in them, having been worn down by three millennia of footsteps. There was a curious energy among the magisters assembled this morning. Leto noticed them speaking to each other in hushed voices, some seemed excited, others concerned, but they all seemed very much awake for such a sultry, humid summer morning. Leto wondered if he should be on his guard. Most magisters could hold their own against magical attacks, but they occasionally resorted to more conventional violence against their rivals- such as a rogue with a knife or a poison arrow- just to spice things up. That was where the magister’s personal guard was meant to step in. Even in these hallowed halls of academia, ill feeling had been known to boil over. Leto briefly savored the idea that, if such a situation did arise, he could simply let Vospicus die. He’d be executed for neglecting his duty, of course, but it might be worth it.

Two guards and an administrative mage stood at the main doors. The mage was using a spell to verify enchanted invitations which the magisters handed to him one by one as they approached the entrance. Leto thought that was curious- scholars and servants went in and out of the Circle keep all the time. He knew certain areas were guarded, but whatever was going on this morning seemed to call for a heightened level of security. The magisters and their retinues filed into a grand auditorium, with amphitheater style seating and massive windows that melded seamlessly into a glass dome providing ample natural light. The Circle keep was magically cooled, and Leto felt a happy little shiver along the back of his neck as his body adjusted to the dry, balmy air. A magister was standing at the bottom of the auditorium on the presentation stage next to a large object covered with a sheet. The audience was still filing into the lecture hall and shuffling to their seats, but the man at the center already commanded the attention of the room. The other magisters’ eyes were fixed on him as soon as they entered the auditorium. He was a tall, fit man of perhaps forty-five or fifty, dressed in a simple back robe, his silver hair and beard cut short and neat. As soon as everyone was seated, the magister in the center addressed the crowd.

“Good morning, esteemed colleagues, friends, and a special welcome to our guests from the Imperial Legion.” The magister gestured toward two grim looking men at the back who shifted in their seats, looking uncomfortable with the attention drawn to them.

“I believe most of you know me, but for those who don’t, my name is Danarius Avitus, I am the Publius Scion Chair of Ancient Elven Technologies, and I am very pleased to be with you here on this momentous day to share what I believe to be a genuine breakthrough in the study of the Ancient Arts. If you’ve been following my work, or dare I say, contributing to it,” Danarius flashed a winning smile into the crowd, “you know that one of the most intriguing and frustrating possibilities presented by the study of Ancient Elven texts has been their fabled network of inter-dimensional travel, the Eluvian system. The ancient elves used the Eluvian system to move almost instantaneously from one corner of Thedas to another by passing outside the fabric of known space, perhaps beyond the Veil itself. It goes without saying that the benefit of such a system, both for practical and military use, not to mention from a purely scientific standpoint, would be of immense value if we were to be able to recreate it. While we have had success in locating a few individual, defective Eluvians, we have heretofore been unable to understand how they function.” Danarius paused for dramatic effect, the crowd still with anticipation.

“Until now.”

Danarius drew back the sheet to reveal a mirror, the surface of which, rather than reflecting the room, shimmered like water.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the first Tevinter Eluvian!” The room erupted into uproarious applause.


	2. Chapter 2

Immediately hands shot up in the crowd, and Danarius waited patiently for the applause to die down, basking in their adulation like the primo uomo he was.

“Thank you, thank you. Er, let’s start with you, Aquila.”

“Have you, in fact, opened a portal to another location?”

“I can confirm that yes, yes we have done that.” Danarius pointed to a woman in the audience. “Preceptor- yes.” The woman stood.

“Danarius, do we know the location of the portal’s egress?”

“Ah,” Danarius clicked his tongue, “Unfortunately at this time we do not. While the Ancient Elves used enchanted mirrors such as this one to anchor their points of destination on both sides, we have been unable to determine how they established the connection, and thus we have created an anchored entrance point with an indeterminate exit. Determining that location will be the next major milestone in this project, and of course, our long term goal will be to create and anchor a desired point of destination, but I’m afraid we’re a ways off from that yet. Yes, the gentleman in the back”

“Have you sent probes through? How can you be sure the portal functions?”

“We have, indeed, sent probes through, enchanted to return to their point of origin, and they have done so, leading me to be quite certain that the portal is functional in both directions. Yes, Sextus.”

“Have you tried sending living subjects through the portal?”

“We submitted a request for subjects to the Council of Resources, but I’m sorry to say our request was denied.” Danarius gave a tight, polite smile and a cold flicker passed over his pale blue eyes. A murmur went through the crowd.  
A slightly younger man with cropped dark hair and a severe expression stood up from his seat in the fifth row and addressed the audience.

“If I may, with respect, the Council determined that given the unknown location of the portal’s egress, it would pose an unnecessary risk to send live subjects through until we have more information. Firstly, that portal could exit in the middle of the ocean, or over a pit of lava, or in the middle of the Empress of Orlais’ privy chamber. Secondly, I have not been given a compelling reason why, once sent through the portal, the subjects would not simply run away. These reservations, I believe, are enough to justify a hold on Danarius’s request,” some indignant comments rose from the crowd, “for the time being of course.”

Danarius held his smile. “Of course, Gereon. We will continue to collect more data and resubmit our request at the appropriate time.”

While Danarius continued to field questions from the excited crowd, the delegates from the Imperial Legion sat impassive and aloof at the back of the auditorium. Leto had noted them, and had been following most of what Danarius had said, but he was only half paying attention. He couldn’t take his eyes off the rippling surface of the Eluvian. They didn’t even know what was on the other side… Leto felt dizzy with the sheer scope of possibility. As Magister Alexius had pointed out, it could just be an express journey to the Void. Whoever went through could just drop into the open sea and drown. But… what if they didn’t? What if there was something else out there? Freedom. Leto had known from the moment he saw the Eluvian, whatever lay beyond that portal, he was game to try.


	3. Chapter 3

Marian was not having the night she had envisioned. It was past her curfew, and she was walking home along the south road. Alone. There was going to be hell to pay for leaving her brother at the Tucker farm, but Marian was not going back for him. When Carver had gotten wind of the party, he had begged their parents to let him go. He was fourteen, probably too young to hang around with a bunch of older kids and a few barrels of ale, so their parents had come up with the grand idea that Marian would sacrifice her enjoyment to keep an eye on him. She sucked in the chilly night air, cursing her brother for always making it all about himself, for not being sensible like Bethany and staying home to study, and most of all for humiliating her in front of the entire party when she was just trying to be a good big sister and get him home by curfew.

Arrogant little fuck, she fumed. When Marian had gone over to get him, Carver was deep in the middle of a game of king’s cup with Ned Tucker and Jordyn Scayles. He had been quite the life of the party up to that point- the older boys had quickly discerned that Carver was game for any stupid stunt if it got him attention and made him look the big man. He was too stupid to get that they were laughing at him, not with him. Marian had been watching him down tankard after tankard of brown beer and cider, resigned to intervene if he tried to do a jump off the barn loft or ride the Tucker’s Orlesian show horse.

When Marian had told him it was time to go, Carver had just laughed at her. When she had insisted, he told her to piss off, and when she grabbed his arm to drag him out he shoved her back into a table, sending bottles clattering to the ground. Marian had looked up at her brother’s sneering face and realized, perhaps for the first time, that he had grown quite a bit taller than her. That’s when she decided to hell with him and left him to the tender mercies of Jordyn and Ned. Clearly Carver could take care of himself.

This was supposed to have gone so differently. Marian had washed and put on her best shirt and polished her boots and let her black hair fall loose around her shoulders, all in the hope of catching Tris Tucker’s eye. In her daydreams, she would walk in looking spiff and feel Tris sizing her up, seeing in Marian something heretofore unseen. Tris would then break away from her posse of pretty girls to offer Marian a drink. She would ask Marian to dance, and Marian would spend the rest of the evening whirling around the floor with her face full of Tris’s long, golden hair. The rest would be history. But this was not to be. Tris had spent the evening sitting on Ben Finch’s knee and she had spent it minding five feet ten inches of beer fueled teenage ego.

At least it was a pretty night. Marian figured she might as well enjoy it before she was grounded for the remainder of her natural life. It was the beginning of the wheat harvest, but the nights in Lothering were already crisp and cold. Stars glittered in the cloudless sky, and the air smelled of cut grass and salt from Lake Calenhad. She complained about Lothering constantly- the small mindedness of their neighbors, the endless gossip and backbiting typical of tiny farming towns, but she couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. And for better or worse, it was home.

Marian had just reached the crossroads about a quarter mile off from her family’s land when she was startled from her reverie by a rustling near some bay trees off the path. Marian froze. It was probably just a possum or a badger, but on the off chance it was anything larger she had her magic to defend her. Much to her surprise, the figure that emerged from the trees was not a badger or even a bear, but a boy, and he seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. The two stared at one another, neither really certain what to do. Eventually, Marian cleared her throat, but it didn’t stop her voice from coming out a few notes higher than normal.

“Hail and well met, traveler.”

The boy answered in Common, tinged with an accent she’d never heard before. “Hail, lady. Pray, tell me fair...person, what land is this that I have come to in my journeyings?

Marian looked the boy over. He was an elf of about her age, handsome, for sure, with dark skin and thick, wavy black hair. His bright green eyes made her catch her breath a little. She reminded herself to try not to look foolish. Poor sod, if he didn’t know he was in Lothering, he was in for a disappointment.

“This is Lothering, friend. My condolences. Are you lost? I can show you to the inn, if you like.”

The boy hesitated, considering her offer, before giving her a grateful smile. “The inn, yes, that would be… excellent. Thank you, my lady.” As if remembering his manners, he gave Marian an understated bow.

“What’s your name, traveler?” asked Marian, offering her hand.

The boy took it and grasped it firmly. Marian had always been a bit self conscious about her large hands and long fingers (a good farm wench’s hands, her brother never tired of saying), but the stranger’s hand made her feel almost dainty. His grip was solid and his palm warm and dry. Marian had to suppress a sigh.

“My name is Leto,” he answered.

“Leto, I’m Marian. Welcome.” She stole a glance at him as they started back on the south road toward the town. Leto noticed and smiled back at her.

“What brings you to these parts? I’m afraid there’s not much here apart from what you see around you. Agriculture and such. Lots of sheep.”

Leto was caught off guard by her question, and fumbled a bit for an answer. “I… we’re… interested in… we’re looking to settle here. I mean, my family is. I came from… the big city.”

Kaffas. Leto realized he didn’t even know what kingdom he was in, although he figured it was either Ferelden or Orlais.

“I was sent ahead to assess the area. We’re hoping to buy land here. Start a new life.” None of that was exactly a lie.

“I see…” Marian’s outlook on Lothering immediately improved at the prospect of such an attractive neighbor. “Well it's lovely here, obviously. My family, the Hawkes, have been here for generations. We have the apple groves and cider press back down the south road. We like it well, I’m sure your family will like it too. You’re from Denerim then?”

Yes! Denerim. Denerim, that was the name. So he was in Ferelden. Leto had often heard Calvus speak of his travels in Ferelden as a boy.

“That’s right,” Leto answered with a grin that he hoped conveyed confidence. “The city has grown too confining for us of late.”

“Mhm.” Marian felt this was very promising indeed and could not keep a sly smile off her face. She’d forgotten all about Tris Tucker. “Dirty place, Denerim. Very congested. You’ll find the fresh country air to be more healthful.”

The walk into town was short, and as they entered the little village, Marian pointed to a two story stone building, the largest in Lothering apart from the Chantry. “There’s the inn there, tell Derry you’re a friend of Malcolm Hawke, he’ll take care of you. And don’t be a stranger, eh?”

The way Marian looked at him when she said that, her bright blue eyes sparkling and a rakish half smile on her pretty face, left Leto speechless. But as she began to walk away, Leto suffered a disturbing realization- he didn’t have a copper to his name. He didn’t like the prospect of wandering around the village looking for a haystack to sleep in, only to wake up to an angry human farmer with a pitchfork.

“Marian, wait.”

She turned around, and he ran a few yards down the road to catch up with her.

“I… must have lost my purse on the road. If you could tell me of a field I could make camp in, where I would not bother anyone…” he trailed off.

Marian looked at Leto. She noticed for the first time his light cotton tunic and trousers- suitable for warm weather, but completely insufficient for a cold summer night and misty morning in Lothering. She could tell Leto was embarrassed to ask, but Marian wasn’t in the least bit put out. She shook her head.

“Nonsense. We don’t let our guests sleep rough around here. My mam and dad would be happy to have you. Come on, I’ll take you back to mine.” Marian gestured for Leto to follow her, but he didn’t move. He looked troubled.

“That’s very kind of you, but I do not know if that’s a good idea.”

Marian frowned, but thought she understood what he meant. “Oh, my parents aren’t like that, I swear. I mean, they’re human, but they’re not…”

Leto cut her off, “No, that’s not what I meant, it's just… I’d rather not have it be known that I’m here. I’m sure your parents are honorable people, but I would hate to put them in an awkward position… if… if anyone asks questions.”

He looked genuinely worried. Marian had thought from the beginning that she smelled something odd about his story, and yet he seemed trustworthy. It was a risk, she supposed, but she could hold her own. Even if this stranger had something to hide, she didn’t believe he meant her any harm. Marian put a hand on his arm. It wasn’t as if she had nothing to hide herself.

“Look, we have the ciderhouse out back the property. No one will be in there for another couple weeks, not until the apple harvest starts. Why don’t you stay there while you conduct your business. No one has to know you’re there.”

Leto found her touch so reassuring, and her expression so earnest it made his heart ache. “Yeah, okay.” Leto caught Marian’s hand as they walked back toward the Hawke farm and gave it a quick squeeze. “Thank you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Leto drifted softly awake in his nest of blankets tucked away in the ciderhouse loft. He stretched lazily before pulling the feather quilt back over his feet. Sun was streaming in through the dusty windows, but the morning was cold, and the air felt sharp and fresh as he breathed it in. It had been dark when they got back to the farm, but in the daylight Leto could see that the ciderhouse consisted of one spacious room with dozens of barrels stacked against one wall, a number of tables covered in sheets to keep the dust off, and a large iron press that was not dissimilar from the one used to make wine on the estate. The door opened with a gentle creek, and Marian entered holding two stoneware mugs with gentle curls of steam rising off them. Leto watched her come in with the morning sun shining through her smooth sable hair. He wondered if this was a dream, and if he would wake up any minute back in the men’s quarters. Marian moved so light and easy, and she smiled when she saw he was awake. Leto had enjoyed kind looks from plenty of pretty girls in Minrathous, but never had a smile so disarmed him.

“How did you sleep?” asked Marian, climbing the stairs to the loft and sitting down on the top step. She handed him one of the mugs of fragrant black tea. Leto took the mug gratefully and took a deep breath the steam.

“Never better.”

He took a sip. It was unusual. Smokey, not sweet like the tea in Tevinter. But it was nice.

“I really don’t know how to thank you.”

Marian grinned. “Well that’s lucky, because I’ve been told I need to have this place spotless by the end of the week. My dad was waiting up when I came in last night. He was fuming. I was supposed to have my brother home by midnight, and instead I came in at dawn, alone, and da had to go all the way down to the Tucker farm and scrape Carver off the floor. I’m so deep in shit, I’ll be doing every dirty job on the farm till Wintersend. But if you help me, we can probably get this lot done in a day and I can take you into town, show you the sights, what few there are to see.”

Leto frowned. “Did I get you in trouble with your parents?”

Marian shook her head and pulled one of the blankets from Leto’s nest around her shoulders. “No, I took care of that before we even met. So,” she gestured around the room, “what do you say?”

Leto sat up straight, squared his shoulders, and gave his best resolute stare. “I saw we’ll have it done by noontide.”

All morning, Leto and Marian dusted and swept the ciderhouse to make it presentable for harvest time, when the Hawkes would begin producing cider for the year and their neighbors would come to the farm to buy the tart, fizzy nectar by the cask or stay and enjoy it by the tankard. Marian explained that in Wintermarch and Guardian they would make maple syrup there too, but for much of the spring and summer the ciderhouse remained closed. Leto couldn’t help but notice that when their conversation trailed off Marian sang softly as she worked. She had a fine, low voice, and he found himself staying purposefully quiet so he could listen.

After they had dusted the walls and window casings, washed the windows (with Marian sitting on Leto’s shoulders, which they both agreed was more fun than fetching a ladder) and swept the floor, Marian got a rag and a pot of oil and began cleaning and oiling the apple press. Leto watched her with interest.

“Cider is made by fermenting apples like wine is made by fermenting grapes, is that right?” 

Marian considered this. “That sounds right. Although I don’t know much about wine. It’s done by adding leaven and sugar and letting it sit for a time. It’s nice. I think we have a cask or two left from last season. I’ll open one so you can try.”

Leto smiled. “I’d like that.”

He took a spare rag and started wiping dust out of the gears. “My mother makes wine.”

Marian looked at him, surprised. “Really? I’ve never had it. What’s it taste like?”

Leto’s face lit up with interest. When he finished his duties early he would sometimes go to the winery at the far end of the estate to keep his mother company while she worked, and she liked to explain the steps to him. Leto had rarely seen his mother take pleasure in anything, but when she had taken over the wine-making after Hesta died she seemed to have found a calling.

“There are many kinds, and they all taste different. But the wine my mother makes is… difficult to describe. Mostly red, but she likes to experiment. It’s very good. Her boss takes all the credit for it, but he never even touches it until he pours it down his gullet. I think she might be really talented.”

Marian was giving him an odd look. “Her boss sounds like a prick.” She paused. “Your mother makes wine in Denerim?”

Leto didn’t answer, but kept working on the gears. He knew he had made a mistake. Marian stopped and put down her rag, turning to face him.

“Look… if you’re in some kind of trouble, you can tell me.” Leto knit his brows together, but remained silent. Marian spent a half second deciding how reckless she was about to be before she spoke.

“You can trust me. Look, I’m not exactly in the clear myself.” Marian opened her hand and a tiny flame flickered to life and danced in her palm before she closed it, snuffing it out. “See?”

Leto looked surprised, but it wasn’t the abject shock Marian had been bracing for. Leto nodded. “I do see. Magic is forbidden here. If they knew they would take you away.” 

Marian nodded. “It's not like that where you’re from, is it?” She asked. Leto just shook his head.

She brought out a small cask of cider from behind the bar and they sat down at one of the freshly polished tables, facing one another.

“Are you really looking to live here with your family?” asked Marian.

Leto nodded emphatically. “That part was true.”

“Is someone trying to stop you?”

Leto figured he may as well just have out with it. “I came here from Minrathous. My family and I… we aren’t free. I have a master, and when he realizes I'm gone he will come looking for me.” 

Marian thought for a moment. “You must have been on the run for… months. You made it a long way.”

“Well, that part’s interesting, really. I’ve been on the run since last night. I came here…” Leto giggled, knowing full well how crazy he was about to sound. “I came here through a magic portal. A sort of gate that took me instantly from there to here. To the road where you found me last night.” 

Marian regarded him blankly. “What?”

Leto started laughing in earnest now. “I just told you, I came through a magic portal. The magister called it a… Luvium… or something like that. It was some experimental magic they were doing at the Circle.”

“And they just let you go through?”

“Well, no, I broke in. After everyone was asleep I walked back into town and broke into the Circle. I climbed to the second story and broke a window, and I had to avoid some guards, but it wasn’t that hard.”

Marian found this extremely unlikely. “What, there wasn’t anyone guarding the portal? No warding spells? You just… strolled on through?”

Leto considered this. “Huh. I suppose that is curious.”

“Well, in any case, you’re here now. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I need to go back for my mother and sister and bring them with me through the portal. If that works… I meant what I said. We could make a life here. Away from Tevinter, from Vospicus… we’d be free. I don’t know what we would do, but it wouldn’t matter.”

Marian took his hand and he responded by lacing his fingers through hers. “You wouldn’t have to do it alone. I know my family would help you. You and your ma and sister could stay here as long as you need. We don’t have to tell them yet, but when you’re ready I know they’ll be behind you.”

Leto looked into her eyes, blue as the sea on a clear day, her expression so open and earnest it made him feel like his heart would burst.

Marian smiled and drained the last of her cider. “If you’re going to settle here you might as well see what you’re in for. Shall we take a tour of scenic Lothering? More sheep per capita than any other village in Ferelden.”

Leto stood up quickly, acutely aware of how close he had come to trying for a kiss. Leto looked down at his dusty, rumpled tunic and the grime that had collected under his nails and grimaced. “Are there baths in town? I do not wish to make a bad impression.”

Marian frowned. “Ooh, no, I’m afraid not. But we have the next best thing. I’ll get you sorted. I think mam and dad are in town with the twins, so we should be free and clear. You can borrow some of Carver’s clothes, but I can’t vouch for the smell.”

Marian led Leto through the apple groves and the garden to the little stone house where the family lived. Around back was a raised wooden platform with a sort of stall made from wooden boards and a rope that led up to a conduit that appeared tenuously associated with a barrel on the roof.

“Right,” said Marian. “There’s soap in there and you just pull on the rope for water. I’ll try to find you a decent set of clothes.”

Leto regarded the contraption uneasily. Every town and city in Tevinter boasted a bathhouse with water heated either magically or by natural springs, and bathing was an essential aspect of Tevinter life, even for slaves. Vospicus, like most wealthy citizens, had bathing chambers on his estate- one for the family and another at the back of the house near the slave quarters, but Leto still preferred to bathe in town when he could get leave. The bathhouse was one of precious few places to freely socialize with liberati and slaves from other households, and he loved the smell of rose oil that hung in the cavernous stone chambers and the feel of hot water and steam. Leto had a feeling there would be no steam in this situation.

When Marian returned from the house with a clean linen shirt and a pair of leather trousers stolen from her brother, Leto had stripped naked and was standing in enclosure, his modesty protected by the boards, but he remained dry as a tinderbox.

“What’s wrong?” asked Marian, amused.

Leto coughed sheepishly. “Is it… going to be cold?”

Marian laughed. “You bet. But don’t worry, it’s refreshing.”

Leto groaned.

“Oh, come now, it’s really not that bad,” she chided, but Leto was not convinced. “What, do you need me to get in there with you?” asked Marian, with that mischievous half smile that made Leto’s pulse quicken. 

A bit stunned, really hoping he had heard her correctly, Leto cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yes. I think that might be best. Clearly I require assistance.”

He did his best to focus his eyes gallantly on the treeline as Marian unbuttoned her summer dress and pushed open the swinging door to join him. Marian was not so demure with her gaze, and when Leto stole a glance at her face he saw that she was blushing crimson. Marian pressed up against his back and wrapped an arm around his waist. Leto was starting to wonder whether he would physically survive this, or whether the pressure in his body would burst some essential vessel in his brain, when Marian whispered, “ready?” and he made a small noise of assent before letting out a yelp as a deluge of freezing cold water washed over them.

They both burst out laughing after the first shock of cold and Leto turned around to face her, catching his breath, the bashfulness leaving him as he started to caress her face, as he pulled her shivering body close and began to kiss her.

The spell was broken by the sound of a snapping twig. They both turned to look at the source of the disturbance and were dismayed to see a younger girl with a mass of dark brown curls tied up in a red ribbon staring at them, her expression equal parts fascination and outrage. Marian swore.

“Marian, who is that man?” the girl demanded, he voice dripping with disdain.

“Look Bethany, I really need you to be cool about this-” but the girl was already running toward the house yelling “Mammy! Marian has a man in the shower!”

Marian threw Leto the towel and hastily pulled on her dress without even bothering to dry off. She sighed deeply. “Feck.”

Leto ducked down behind the boards as Bethany came marching back with Leandra Hawke in tow. Leandra was a handsome woman in her forties with long, loosely plaited silver hair and the air of a sheriff catching a repeat offender in the act.

“Well, Marian, are you going to introduce your guest?” asked Leandra, giving her daughter a look so fearsome it could turn a dragon into a doormouse.

Marian looked mortified, but she complied. “Ma, this is Leto.”

Leto poked his head up over the door to assess what he was up against before covering as much of his body as possible with the towel and emerging out of the shower with a stiff, formal bow. “Hail and well met, ladies.”

Leandra did not look amused. Bethany was staring daggers at him. Finally Marian spoke up, breaking the weighty silence.

“Leto’s family is thinking of moving to Lothering, and he’s here to survey the land. From Denerim.” Leandra raised an eyebrow.

“Did you two meet at the Tucker’s party?”

Marian nodded, her mother’s expression softening a bit.

“Well, Leto, I’ll let you two get dressed, and unless you have business elsewhere Marian has a meal to prepare and I’m sure she’d appreciate the help. You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner.”

Leto bowed again. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Oh, and Leto,” Leandra paused on her way back to the house. “My daughter has a curfew. That curfew is midnight. Pray do not forget in future.”


	5. Chapter 5

The little house was larger inside than it appeared from without. It had a sitting room and kitchen on the ground floor and a second story with two bedrooms- one for Malcolm and Leandra and another for Marian and Bethany. Carver lately preferred the privacy of the covered wagon outside. The interior was tidy and warm, lit with sconces and candles and a cooking fire burning in the hearth.

Bethany had been very suspicious at first of the “rascal threatening her sister’s honor” but she seemed to have accepted Leto’s presence in the house and was sitting in an overstuffed chair near the kitchen with her knitting, pretending not to eavesdrop as Leto and Marian peeled potatoes. Leto was regaling Marian with fantastical descriptions of Minrathous- the alabaster spires and vast gardens, the grand forum where merchants from as far as the Anderfels and Rivain sold gold and silk and magical items of every kind. He had been surprised to learn that Marian already knew quite a bit about Tevinter’s history, and could even say a few words in Tevene. She, in turn, was trying to explain to him the convoluted web of Banns and Arls and Teryns that comprised the Ferelden system of government under King Maric.

Leto met Malcolm when he came in from the field and had found him to be a friendly, easy going man who didn’t seem in the least bit bothered to learn that he had a house guest. Carver had briefly entered the house to see what all the fuss was about, acknowledging Leto with a cursory “hey” before retreating back to his lair. As they sat down to a dinner of meat and potato pie with a salad Bethany had insisted on including from the garden and apples from the orchard for desert, Leto felt so welcome and easy that he resolved to spend one more day enjoying their company before attempting the dangerous trip back for his mother and sister.

Malcolm asked Leto about his family and he told him what he could without lying or giving himself away. He had decided to disclose his situation to the Hawkes once he had returned safely through the portal with his mother and Varania. He told Malcolm that his father had died before he was born, and that he worked with his mother and sister as a servant in a noble house. Malcolm didn’t pry, though Leto suspected the man knew he hadn’t told him everything.

After the meal was finished and the plates passed to a disgruntled Carver for washing, Marian made to walk Leto back to the ciderhouse, but Leandra gestured for her to remain. He assured her that he could find his way, and Marian was left alone with her mother. “Come with me, love,” said Leandra as she started up the stairs. Marian followed with some reluctance. Leandra went into her bedroom and produced a box from the nightstand, from which she selected something long and diaphanous. Marian saw, to her chagrin, that it was a sheepskin johnny. She took it gingerly between her fingers and tucked it into her pocket, avoiding her mother’s eyes. Leandra chuckled.

“If you can’t face the johnny you’ll have a hard time coming to terms with what it covers.”

Marian rolled her eyes. She’d seen a penis before.

“I’d have made you the herbs if I’d known.” Leandra paused, musing. “But you have to be careful with the herbs, you know, they’re not a sure thing. That’s how we got the twins.” She gave Marian an insinuating look. “Leto seems like a good lad, but you’re too young for all that.”

Leandra could tell that her daughter was keen to bring this conversation to a close. She gave her a pat on the cheek and sent her on her way.

Marian found Leto waiting for her, sprawled comfortably in his makeshift bed. He pulled back the blankets to let her under, and Marian curled up next to him. He had taken off his shirt to sleep, and Marian luxuriated in the heat of his bare chest against her back.

“Have you thought of what you’ll do?” Marian asked, tracing her fingers lightly over his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Leto pursed his lips. He wasn’t looking forward to this next stage of his grand plan.

“I’ll go back tomorrow night. It will have to be late enough so there won’t be anyone left at the Circle keep. I’ll leave a door unlocked when I leave. Then I’ll make my way back to the estate, get mother and Varania, and Maker willing we’ll all be back through the portal before anyone notices they’re gone.” 

Marian rolled over to face him and started combing her fingers gently though his thick black hair. “I’ll be waiting for you where we met at the crossroad. At sunrise. If you make it through earlier or if something goes wrong, come to the house.”

Leto wrapped his arms more tightly around her slender waist and squeezed. He kissed her, softly as first and then with an abandon that she answered by slipping her tongue in his mouth. He helped her take off her dress, revealing a light cotton shift underneath. Just as it was all about to boil over, with Leto clutching Marian so tightly against him he worried he would smother her, and Marian with her hands on his backside slowly moving one of them toward the laces of his trousers, she stopped and started rummaging around in the pockets of her dress. Having found what she sought, she opened her hand to reveal…. An object that Leto could not identify. He looked quizzically from the object to Marian and back to the object.

“What is it?” He finally asked.

“Oh,” answered Marian. She hadn’t considered the possibility that this might be new. “It's a johnny. You know, so we don’t… make a child.”

Leto’s eyes widened. “I see.” He took the object in his hand and spread it out, examining it with great interest. He held it up to the light of the nearest candle to get a better look. “What is it made of?”

“Sheep. Don’t think too hard about it, trust me.”

Leto admired this feat of practical engineering. For those who could afford it, magic held the means of preventing such difficulties in Tevinter. For those who lacked such resources, this was an enterprising solution.

“Where did you get it?”

Marian grimaced. “My mother. Let’s not dwell on that either.”

She ran her fingers up his thighs. “I can help you put it on, if you’d like.”

Leto gazed at her, a halo of candlelight casting warm tones in her black hair, illumining her alabaster skin, tinged golden brown in the places she’d left exposed while working in the sun. The candle threw shadows against her sharp, delicate features and shone through the insubstantial fabric of her shift. The light in her blue eyes was wild… fae. Her lips and cheeks were flushed with desire. Leto thought she looked like a spirit.

His sister, Varania, was born with the gift and took great pleasure in it. She had told Leto more than once that magic made her feel free. Leto, himself a soporati, had up to this point considered magic almost pedestrian- it was all around you in Tevinter, like moving through a thick syrup of magic that restricted your movement and made it difficult to breathe. But here, in this waking dream, with this vision before him, Leto thought he understood what Varania meant. It wasn’t just Marian’s magic, it was everything- the Eluvian, the fact that in an instant he had been transported to a different life. Magic made possible what otherwise could never be.

Leto gently took both of Marian’s hands in his. “I thought we would wait until we were betrothed.”

Marian stared at him like he'd suddenly sprouted bat’s wings. “Betrothed?”

Ah, Leto understood. He had few prospects and no money for a dowry, little to offer the Hawkes in terms of assurance for their daughter’s future.

“Well, it will take me some time, of course, to establish myself here. But as soon as I do, I will save everything I earn to give you a proper brideprice. If you’ll have me, of course.” Marian was not looking convinced. She cocked her head, trying to process this new turn of events.

“It's just… kind of soon, Leto. And we won’t go to bed until we’re betrothed?”

“Is that not the custom here?” Leto was beginning to fear that he had made a cultural miscalculation. 

Marian thought of all the weddings she had been to in her life- most of them had the couple’s own children in attendance, either from each other or from previous partners. Her face softened at Leto’s look of concern.

“No, not really.” She leaned up against him to rest her head on his shoulder. “But look- you get settled here and get a good flock of sheep or wheat crop or whatever going, and I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes. And if you decide you’re tired of waiting...” she trailed off with an innocent shrug.

Leto grinned and pulled her down into bed with him. Before long, Marian was sound asleep with her head on Leto’s chest as he softly stroked her hair. The truth was, back in Minrathous no one would give a damn what they did together. Sexuality was strictly controlled in the citizen classes, but slaves were not permitted to marry, and it was the ugly truth that their bodies were often subject to the whims of their masters, so generally speaking no one was waiting for anything to enjoy a moment’s comfort in a pair of friendly arms. But he badly wanted this to be different. He’d be a free man soon, and if she wanted him he would wed Marian Hawke in front of the Maker and everyone, and he would love her for the rest of his life.


	6. Chapter 6

They spent the next day exploring all the places around Lothering Marian felt were worth seeing. She gave Leto a tour of the town and introduced him to Derry, the tavern keeper, who tried unsuccessfully to sound stern in warning him to “take good care of our Marian,” and mouthed “well done” at her as he served them their midday meal. They held hands and joked and tried desperately not to think of the danger the evening held for Leto. As the sun fell low in the West they made their way solemnly back to the south road crossing and the place between two bay trees where the air shimmered and distorted the landscape behind it. They had told the Hawkes that Leto was going back to Denerim and Leandra had packed him a meat pie for the road. Neither of them wished to draw out their farewell, and Leto could see as he lifted Marian’s face to his that she had tears in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her. “Look for me at dawn. I am coming back. I swear to you.” 

Marian simply nodded and tried to put on a brave face. Leto stole one last kiss before breaking away from her and stepping through the portal.

Before he even reached the other side, in the infinitesimally small sliver of time it took him to step between two worlds, he knew. He emerged in the laboratory to a standing ovation. The applause was coming from a tall, slim man with a neat silver beard and piercing blue eyes.

“Welcome home, brave voyager.” Leto made an immediate dash for the door, but was turned back by two armored guards. Danarius regarded Leto with cold appraisal, a quiet triumph lurking behind his composed expression.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done here?”

Leto didn’t say a word.

“You’ve helped me make a genuine breakthrough. Quite literally a once in a generation discovery. Not only does the Eluvian function but we now know where it terminates. It was very fortunate that I was in my office when you tripped the alarm, otherwise the cavalry would have come charging in and prevented you from giving me this extraordinary boon.”

Leto backed away as Danarius approached him.

“Young man, you’ve made an incalculable contribution to the Imperium. Now, if you’ll just…”

Leto tried to scramble away, but found that he couldn’t move. He was frozen in place and he was no longer alone in his mind. Icy fingers probed his thoughts. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Then, a flash of cold light and darkness.

When Leto slowly began to regain consciousness, he was moving. He could hear the clatter of hooves, and a blur of color and light moving past his eyes. He felt like he was under water. He slowly realized that he was in a carriage, sitting across from a man in understated black robes. The man looked familiar- maybe he had seen him at one of his master’s parties. The man smiled at him, but the smile didn’t seem to reach his pale blue eyes.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Leto felt panic rising in his throat. “I’m sorry… dominus… where am I? I’m supposed to be at home, I belong to Vospicus Alba, he’ll be angry if I’m not accounted for.”

The magister clicked his tongue. “My boy, I found you outside the servus tavern lying face down in the road. Whatever you took, it must have been some wild ride.”

The panic was almost suffocating now- Leto hardly ever went to the servus tavern, and he certainly didn’t take the powders sold there that some of his comrades used to ease their pain.

“How long was I gone?”

Danarius shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”

Leto couldn’t breathe. The punishment for more than a day’s absence without leave was public flogging in the forum. 

Danarius eyed him, his face inscrutable. “There’s no need to get upset. Let me take care of this. You seem like a good lad. I’m sure this was all an honest mistake.”

Leto thanked the man, astonished by his generosity.

Vospicus was already storming down the stairs as they pulled into the close in front of the main house, his silk robes swirling around his ankles like an angry cloud. His face burned as red as his hair when he saw Leto.

“Damn you, do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” He demanded. “Three days. Three days, you ungrateful little bastard. Where have you been all this time?”

When Leto didn’t answer, Vospicus made to strike him across the face, but stopped when he saw Danarius emerge from the carriage.

“Danarius?” Vospicus’s expression shifted from rage to bewilderment. Danarius put a hand on Vospicus’s back and steered him away from Leto.

“I do apologise, Alba, I know this has been a terrible inconvenience, but it wasn’t the boy’s fault. I saw him as he was leaving the forum, recognized him as one of yours, and requisitioned him for a project I was working on. I should have told you immediately, I know, but I got so caught up at work…”

Vospicus huffed. “Well, damn it all, Danarius, you should have told me. I’ve had my guard out looking for him for days.”

Danarius turned up his palms as if to beg forgiveness. “I know, I know. Mea maxima culpa.”

Leto could see Calvus standing in the doorway, the look on his face a mixture of frustration and relief. Vospicus gave Leto a cursory glance before waving his hand dismissively. “You may go.”

Danarius caught Leto’s eye as he turned toward the yard to go find his mother and sister. He spoke low enough that Vospicus, who was ordering a guard to go into town and tell the night watch to call off their search, didn't take note of his words. “You have the spirit of adventure, my boy. Unlike some others, I consider that a virtue. You and I will meet again.”  
Unsure how to answer, Leto simply bowed and hurried on his way. He could feel that cold, reptilian gaze follow him until he disappeared into the house.

Marian had barely slept that night, and she was already waiting at the crossroads when the sun rose over Lake Chalgrove in the east. She found the place where the air flickered and danced and breathed a deep sigh of relief as a figure emerged through the portal. Her joy quickly turned to terror as she saw that the figure wasn’t Leto, but a tall, slim middle-aged man. Marian turned to run, but she was fixed in place. She could only watch, helpless, as the man examined her with his cold blue eyes. Marian attempted to summon her magic, but there was something stifling it, like a wet blanket thrown over a fire. Her vision began to darken- all she could see was the man, his face as serene as if he was just fixing a cup of tea. All of a sudden she felt a presence, searching, recording, rifling through her memories, violating her mind. At the very moment she thought she could bear it no longer, she saw a flash of light, then nothing.


End file.
